


seams

by SilverCherie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-16 04:30:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13628622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverCherie/pseuds/SilverCherie
Summary: Post-War AU: Gin n TonicVoldemort is on his last horcrux but with the other pieces gone, there is nothing to ground it within his body. In a last, desperate attempt to stitch his soul, he uses the remnants of his old school diary. He does so, along with the forgotten piece of another soul that lingers in its pages…“Did you forget? Just as shambles of your soul stayed with the diary, so did mine?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Cherie here, again with a different gin n tonic fic. This time, it will be a multi-chaptered fic. With much encouragement from neisylemon on tumblr, I decided to try my hand with a longer story. And hopefully you guys like it too! 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are appreciated!

**_Prologue._ **

 

It was a foolish oversight on his part. Killing Potter did get rid of his prophesied adversary, but it also destroyed the penultimate horcrux. 

At first, there was only a small sting of pain –the usual one that came when a piece of the soul was destroyed. And for the next few months, his carnage spread like the plague—his followers extinguishing any and all opposition. 

For the first time in a long time, it seemed that his path was clear. For a brief few months, it seemed that his dream would come true. 

And then, it started. The aftermath of only having a single fragment of his soul intact –and his body rejecting it. 

Unfortunately, one of the inconveniences of being _oh so human and mortal_ is that to actually stay alive, one must meet the ratio of one complete soul to one body. 

And the pain. 

It was never ending and merciless; as if his mind and body were violently attempting to fragment to mirror what was left of his soul. 

At least when all horcruxes existed, he may have gotten away with it on a technicality but thanks to Potter’s meddlesome hero’s quest… his fate may have been sealed. 

_No. Never._

His purpose was too great, too extraordinary to be abruptly stopped by something as trivial as an incomplete soul. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

_“The creation of a horcrux, although straightforward, is considered to be one of the most difficult and damaging attempts of magic. The only noted case of one being successfully created was by Herpo the Foul. Though many other powerful wizards have made an attempt at doing so, they were either killed in the process of trying or resorted to destroying the horcrux immediately after its creation, unable to endure the damage done onto themselves. It is often agreed by most that the effects of creating a horcrux cannot be reversed although it is possible, in theory, that the soul can be made whole again. This, of course, is only speculation...”_

_Chapter 12, Secrets of the Darkest Art_

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well here it is: Chapter 1. I appreciate the comments and kudos from the prologue! <3 <3

_**Chapter 1** _  .

   
A flash of green light was all Ginny saw before she jolted awake.

She gasped, desperately clinging to the damp, cold air that surrounded her.

_Where am I?_

   
The entire school was in chaos; death eaters had attacked from all sides of the grounds and quickly gained the upper hand. 

Her family, her classmates and the remains of the Order had attempted to hold off as best as they could in the Great Hall, but their numbers had dwindled.

The last thing she remembered was dueling with Bellatrix in the Great Hall, blocking curses as quickly as the other witch casting them. 

But not quickly enough.

“ _Avada_ _Kedavra_ _!_ ”

   
She felt a sharp pain in her chest, before everything went black.

   
 _Am I dead?_  

The loud thumps from her chest said otherwise. She touched her face to wipe the dampness that covered it –she felt alive.

It was at this moment she took a moment to observe her surroundings. The floor was hard and wet, but it was impossible to see as the place was pitch black. She could hear the echoes of dripping water surrounding her. 

She felt around her for something, anything, that could give her a clue to where she was. 

Her hand happened upon something hard—a stick of some kind. 

   
 _A wand._

   
“Lumos,” she whispered.

A dim light lit the room.

   
She slowly stood up, her eyes widening in shock and realization of where she was. A hall with no end laid out in front of her with pillars that rose into a darkness that the light from her wand could not uncover. 

   
And on each one of these pillars, serpents were engraved, facing each other. 

_The Chamber._

   
She’d been here before—many times against her will and many times in her dreams. 

   
And always with a boy.

   
A boy who took from her spirit, mind, and soul. A boy who became so much of her, that she still felt him linger.

   
She shook her head.   


Now was not the time to think of the past. She had to get back somehow-- her family, her friends, and— _Harry_ _._ She still felt the ghost of his lips on hers before he had left to face Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest.

   
She clenched her fists.  _I have to go back; I have to keep fighting. For Harry._

   
But first, she needed to find a way out. This was the first time she was in the chamber alone, and the only time she remembered leaving it was with Fawkes.

When  _his_  soul possessed her body, there wasn’t much room for her thoughts or memories. Her mind drowned. As if she was lulled to sleep, her conscience existing between the blurred lines of reality and nightmares.

But her soul shined; it swirled and danced in sync with his. The two merged with one another like an endless, unstoppable whirlpool. 

_Stop, Ginny. You need to stop._

   
She found herself falling down the rabbit hole again.

   
Her time with Tom was always something that the rest of the world had pitied her for. How the sweet, young Weasley girl was seduced and ensnared by an evil that dragged her down to the pits of hell, like Persephone. And she had let them believe that it was a one-sided story. 

Nothing was said of how she  _flourished_ in the aftermath of her first year. Something had changed; she was more aware of herself, of her strength, and her ambition. At her core, her magic radiated without a trace of self-doubt.

Nothing was said of how in the silence of sleepless nights she’d wish to relive the sensation of bonding with that someone else: soul to soul.

She shuddered.

It was all so wrong and sick: to long for something that she shouldn’t. But the power she felt when Tom was with her, she’d wanted that again.

The longer she was here, the more she would want to stay. The more she would want to search for him, even when he had long gone away. 

   
Ginny felt sick to her stomach. 

   
 _I need to get out of here. Before I die a madwoman._

   
She ran up to towards the first pillar on her left, her lit wand pointed upwards. Maybe there was some escape route planted that she could leverage. She felt all around the pillar, hoping to find some trigger or secret that would help her climb up. 

   
But it was smooth, no dents or cracks to be found.

   
Frustrated, she yelled out a “ _Reducto_ _!_ ” soon followed by immediate regret as the pillar came crashing down in large chunks. Ginny scrambled out of the way towards the next one, the dust and debris following her.

   
She tried to catch her breath as she shielded herself from the remnants.

   
 _Not one of your best moments, Ginny._

   
Her recklessness and quick temper always seemed to get her in trouble. 

   
 _Maybe I could fly out! I can call for my broom._

   
But there was no way of knowing the entrance was opened. She didn’t know how she got here, but it couldn't have been through the girl's bathroom.  

   
 _The broom would just be stuck at the entrance._

   
“Fuck!”

   
She became more restless, her brain clouded with dread and the possibility of never leaving. 

   
 _Come on, Ginny! Think! There has to be another way. A phoenix wouldn’t have always been available..._

   
She froze.

   
 _But something else was._

   
She slowly turned around. And came to face the corpse of a basilisk in front of the statue of Salazar Slytherin.

Too preoccupied to notice before, Ginny’s sight and smell were now overwhelmed by the decaying state of the monster. The skin was completely eaten through; only the flesh remained. The corpse was laid out with the underside exposed, as if it were inviting scavengers to prey on it’s carcass. 

Her nostrils were filled with the smell of death, tears threatening to fall down. Her stomach began to lurch. She swallowed in an attempt to keep it under control, but the bile dribbled out, all over her jumper. She fell to her knees, unable to stand. Her throat burned as she let out an anguished scream.    


Breathing heavily, she tried to steady herself.

Now was not the time for a weak stomach.

   
She pushed herself up with all the strength she could muster, holding on to the pillar for support. 

Ginny inched closer to it, one hand tightly gripped around the wand and the other over her abdomen. The smell and sight only became more intolerable, but she had to move forward.

If it was truly dead, she could use it to her advantage. Bewitch and re-animate it to follow her command, to let it transport her back out the main entrance. A basilisk inferius. 

Before she could move closer to examine it, she noticed something small was lying right before the basilisk.

It looked to be a small black book laid open, the beige pages stained with hues of red and black.

   
A cold shiver ran down her spine.

_No, it can’t be. It shouldn’t be down here, it should be in the headmaster’s office with a basilisk fang right through it._

Reluctantly, she picked it up; the blank pages stared back at her. If they had eyes, they would’ve burned right through her. She pressed a hand against it, trying to recall every conversation that she’d had within these pages. Where she had poured her darkest confessions and sins—thoughts that she’d always had but no one to share it with. 

She gripped it tighter as the memories flooded in. No matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried to wish it away, this darkness was always a part of her. As was the chamber, the diary, and Tom.

It was Riddle’s diary, as tangible as she was. 

“Try not to be reckless with that, Ginevra. We both know your temperament.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_“Blood magic, by the standards of most wizards, is said to be too personal, and hence, too dangerous to even attempt. This statement, of course, ignores the existence of something even more intimate—_ _soul_ _magic. What many fail to consider is the fact that blood magic can only effectively work as long as the physical body is still functioning. But soul magic is not defined by life and death—_ _it transcends_ _both. It is timeless. It is limitless. There are many aspects of soul magic that have been theorized, but not tested or observed. Soul bonding, for example, can occur between the souls of two individuals without either being aware. This bond leaves no physical mark as evidence, making it difficult to trace or prove that such a tie even exists…”_

  * _Chapter 4, Secrets of the Darkest Art_



   
   
   
   
   
   



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